Note: Alésia is pronounced "ah-LAY-see-uh".

I own nothing except the products of my imagination... Enjoy! :)

~The Lightning Strike~

Prologue

The room was bland, very bland. The walls were the dullest shade of grey, plain and probably intended to keep anyone from staring at the hideous color. That left the table, chairs, and single window. I sat in one of the hard metal chairs on one side of the equally hard metal table but all I could look at was the surface before me. I knew, without having spared it one glance, that the window was one-way glass, allowing whoever was on the other side to see me but me rendered clueless.

I kept my hands folded neatly in my lap, aware of the fact that if they weren't, they would be shaking uncontrollably. It took a lot of practice being able to appear calm and collected on the outside, but there was nothing I could do about my racing heart, upset stomach, and clammy skin. As subtly as I could manage, I attempted to take discreet breaths to lower my heart rate: in through the nose, out through the mouth, in through the nose, out through the mouth… I quickly realized that it wasn't the best idea, not when the room faintly reeked of mustiness and cheap cologne.

The heavy metal door in the corner opened with a click, revealing a woman in her early thirties. Just before it closed, I caught the outline of a man standing guard outside. As she took the chair directly in front of me, I allowed myself two seconds to appraise her appearance and manner. She was a woman of power and did little to conceal it. Her posture was perfectly straight and erect and she moved with the air of someone who fully believed they owned everything within a twenty-foot radius. I couldn't have found as much as a piece of lint on her blue power suit even if I had the world's best dust collector. Dark brown hair barely brushed the tops of her shoulders and a very solemn, no-bull expression occupied her face. Her eyes, which I had saved for last, were stony grey… and that was it. I wanted to say that they were deadly or daunting but perhaps that was because I didn't want to believe that someone's gaze could be so flat and emotionless. Or, like most other times, I was overthinking it, possibly in an attempt to distract myself from the matter at hand.

"What is your name?"

Something told me that she already knew and that this was only part of the process. There was no inquisitive note in her voice but by the way she stared at me, I decided that it was best to play by her rules. I subconsciously recalled the instructions that I had been given—that time felt so long ago—and figured that this situation was no exception.

"Alésia," I answered shortly. She continued to stare at me and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Alésia Cali," I added.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty years old."

"Date of birth?"

"June 10, 1984."

"Place of birth?"

"Melbourne, Australia."

It continued like this for another eight or so questions, all concerning my identity. I was half considering whether or not I should tell her to get to the point when the questions suddenly became interrogative, turning what was beginning to feel like an interview into a real cross-examination.

"Where were you yesterday afternoon at approximately four o' clock?"

There was no change in her tone but it seemed as if the woman was finally showing some real emotions, flashes of something in her eyes as she waited for my response.

"I was on the roof of the United Nations Headquarters." I was careful to keep my voice controlled. We were approaching a topic I wasn't sure I could discuss without accessing the memories.

"And what were you doing there?"

"I was trying to defuse a bomb."

She raised her head the slightest bit, never removing her gaze from mine, and continued, "What happened?"

Immediately, and without my intention, my mind flashed to the moment on top of that building when God had decided to change the game as if the fate of the world in my hands wasn't enough.

"What happened?" she repeated with a little more force.

As I cast my thoughts back to the memories, her stony face started to fade and I began to relive them in my mind's eye.

The small black box beeped and a robotic female voice announced, "Two minutes until detonation." As I struggled to keep my head clear and rein in the panic, I saw a flash of movement to my left but wasted no time. My hand went to the gun at my waist but when I spun around to shoot, I was facing empty air.

Something hard jammed into my temple and knocked me over. I felt the gun fall from my hands as I collapsed and rolled onto my back, the world fading in and out of darkness as my head throbbed with excruciating pain. A dark masked figure loomed and wavered overhead but a tiny part of my mind that was still functioning forced me to roll once again and get onto my feet. His leg came up and I brought my arms to block the roundhouse before striking back.

Back and forth across the rooftop and under the blue sky we exchanged attacks and blows like a couple on the dance floor. There was never a space of time that wasn't taken by one of us throwing a punch or sweeping a leg. I soon realized that my assailant was very quick and the blow I'd taken to the head slowed me. One time his foot connected to my abdomen, slamming me backward and knocking the breath out of me. If it weren't for my desperate want to live and defuse the bomb, I wouldn't have shoved aside the agony, jumped onto my feet, and picked up where we left off.

"I don't need to know your moments of triumph or who had the best roundhouse. I need to know what happened."

I bit my tongue in an effort to refrain from any smart remarks. "Eventually I managed to incapacitate him," I continued, keeping my eyes on the table, "long enough to retrieve the gun I'd lost earlier. That was when the bomb issued a sixty-second warning."

Turning to the man on the ground, I briefly considered the fact that I might have successfully knocked him unconscious. But the moment I stepped forward to tend to the bomb, I saw him lift a hand from the ground.

My reaction was instinctive and thoughtless.

After a few moments, I lowered the gun although the adrenaline never left me. I wasn't sure why but it occurred to me that I wanted to see his face. There was less than a minute on the timer and I—bruised, limping, and essentially the one held accountable for the entire world's future—was insane enough to be curious about who had attacked me. Dropping to my knees, I reached for the ski mask, which was already soaked through with blood, and pulled it off.

"Did you recognize their face?"

I looked up, almost having forgotten that I'd been in the middle of telling a story. The woman (whose name still remained unbeknownst to me) was watching me carefully but I swore there was a change in her demeanor, one I couldn't easily put my finger on. "Yes."

"What was the name of this person?"

His face flooded my mind against my will and I felt my stomach twist with such discomfort and anguish I could feel my mouth starting to salivate, that dreaded first symptom that made me wish there was a trash can in the room. The way his hair had been plastered to his skin in sweat and blood was permanently burned into my brain. His expression… the lack of expression that could've passed him off as sleeping only made me clench my hands and shut my eyes, no longer able to maintain the "calm and collected" façade. Suddenly it felt like someone had turned the heat up. My body hiccupped and I willed with every fiber of my being that my stomach keep it down.

"Alésia." Her voice was emphatic. "The name."

Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes and then my mouth but I refused to look at her. My voice croaked and choked around the words despite my effort to sound intelligible. They were four syllables I just couldn't seem to speak.

"I can't understand you."

Slowly and deliberately, I raised my eyes to meet hers... Then I told her in a soft but clear voice, "Alex Rider. His name was Alex Rider."

Note: And so I present to you the long-awaited sequel to Omnia Iusta Sunt Amore Belloque :) For my readers that have read the first fic, I'm sorry I took so long with this sequel but I am a senior in high school so I am always caught up in busy busy things. Needless to say, I can't guarantee that the next update will come quickly either :( I apologize profusely for that because I really do enjoy writing for you guys, especially when you're so supportive, and it's frustrating when I don't have time and sad when I receive a PM or comment asking about updating. I try my best but do keep in mind that i have other fanfics waiting for me... but then again, OISAB is the one that gets the most attention and still does haha.

New readers! Hello there :) I'm not going to demand that you read OISAB since, like any other sequel should, this one will be written assuming you know nothing. I do encourage you to at least skim through it a bit to get a feel for my OCs and what went down in the story but it is totally up to you! I invite you to get to know my characters and all that other good stuff through this sequel.

I received such great feedback for OISAB that not only did I feel pressure for making this sequel just as good if not better, but I kept feeling that I was fresh out of ideas and couldn't decide between what I'd come up with. But I hope it intrigues you and you find it a great read :)

Please please review! I will be forever thankful and love you forever if you do. And maybe give you a snickerdoodle.

xx